


Bridal Style

by milkysterek



Series: Canon Style [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Humor, Hurt Stiles, I Don't Watch This Show So IDK, M/M, Season 6B, Spoilers, We're Baaaaaack, i guess, kind of, s06e20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 02:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12122220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkysterek/pseuds/milkysterek
Summary: “Oh, Fuck,” Stiles gulps and tightens his arms around Derek’s neck, “It’s going to be off my foot, isn’t it?”Derek doesn’t know how to answer that. A toe isn’t really an important body part, in Derek’s opinion, but he has the ability to heal and has never been faced with an imminent loss of limb. Except for that time with his arm at the vet clinic but that’s irrelevant and old news and people need to stop bringing that up.





	Bridal Style

**Author's Note:**

> A small piece because I'm getting my life right now
> 
> I don't know the plot of 6B but from what I can tell from tumblr it's hunters and shit or something... it's only mentioned briefly in the beginning so if that's wrong idk just ignore it xo

Derek isn’t sure what the hell is going on when the gunfire starts. One minute he’s about to rip the insides out of some low-level hunter dead set on eradicating his entire species and the next the abandoned industrial building sounds like someone’s lit a bunch of firecrackers and thrown them full pelt right at him. Bullets flying out of guns with a repetitive  _ snap, snap, snap _  and whooshing every which way making Derek’s ears ring and his hackles stand on end. Bursts of dust and smoke fill what used to be a pretty open space and the wolf ducks, needing to find some way to clear his head of all the hysteria if he plans on getting out of this alive. 

Crouching down behind a stack of conveniently placed crates, he closes his eyes and tries to find some calm. He grabs on tight to his anchor and begins to silently recite every little detail that he can remember. Those long, black lashes that frame molten amber doe eyes; puffy pink lips that hide a vicious and agile pink tongue; speckled moles on pale skin that Derek would have loved, just once, to have latched onto, to have sucked… And that scent; honey and warmth and a mixture of weird teenage things that would come and go with each shower, a scent so real and consuming that even now it feels like Derek can find it, follow it, hunt it down. So close it's almost like…

Bullets are still flying, hissing and crackling overhead only momentarily being drowned out by the louder claps of explosions and flashes of bright white light from somewhere else in the building turned battlefield. Through all of that - bullets and bodies and all - Stiles is there, standing in the centre of the carnage yelling something… something about…

“My toe!” Stiles wails and bends down to pull off his shoe, paying no mind to the danger all around him. “They shot my toe!”

There’s no time to think of anything too fancy in the way of a rescue mission so Derek does what he does best - he charges in, scoops Stiles up in his arms and makes a run for it. 

It takes a moment of continued cries about his toe before Stiles even begins to realise that something is different about his position. When he does, Derek is met with wide golden eyes filled with pain and confusion and something that the wolf is sure will turn into outrage at some point in the near future. He can’t think about that right now, though; he just needs to get Stiles out of there. 

 

“You can stop screaming now,” Derek grits out between clenched teeth. They’re near his car, far from the attack that Derek still isn’t sure is down to him or not. He does a lot of sketchy shit, sometimes the cops like to get involved. It’s a whole thing, “Seriously, shut up.”

“Oh, Fuck,” Stiles gulps and tightens his arms around Derek’s neck, “It’s going to be off my foot, isn’t it?”

Derek doesn’t know how to answer that. A toe isn’t really an important body part, in Derek’s opinion, but he has the ability to heal and has never been faced with an imminent loss of limb. Except for that time with his arm at the vet clinic but that’s irrelevant and old news and people need to stop bringing that up.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” He asks, trying to steer the conversation away from loss of limb... now that he thinks about it, Derek isn't sure a toe counts as a limb. An appendage? Extremity?

Stiles frowns down at his bloody sock, “I’m here to save you.”

Derek deadpans, “My hero.”

“I can’t fucking stand you, you know that?”

“I don’t think you’re going to be standing anyone anytime soon with a missing toe,” Derek retorts with a snide smirk as he hoists Stiles a little higher in his arms. He gets a hand free, pops open the door to the Camaro and pointedly ignores the death glare as he deposits Stiles in the front seat. 

He’s just gotten the door closed and is halfway around the car when he hears Stiles mutter under his breath, so quiet Derek can barely hear him, “Next time you carry me like that, it better be on our wedding night.”

Well, that’s something to talk about on the ride to the hospital. 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried writing with my bra on for the first time and it made my titties feel like they were standing to attention. Professional titties. 
> 
> Challenge me to a hell in a cell match on [tumblr](http://milkysterek.tumblr.com/)


End file.
